Three Conversations That Tim And Kon Never Had
by Amarin Rose
Summary: Pairing: Tim–Kon Chapter 1: Kon talks to someone about Tim. Chapter 2: Tim talks to someone about Kon. Chapter 3: Kon tries to talk Tim out of his funk. Then he tries something that works.
1. I Am My Beloved's And My Beloved Is Mine

**I Am My Beloved's, And My Beloved Is Mine**

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Rating: PG  
Summary: Kon talks to someone about Tim.  
Notes: Kealoha is Hawaiian for Beloved

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_He thinks I don't trust him. But I do._

_How can I not? He always has everyone's best interests at heart._

_Except his own, of course; but then Tim's always been the self-sacrificing sort._

_I'm sure it isn't in his own best interests to try and take the weight of the world on his shoulders. But despite my super-strength, he's better equipped for it than I'll ever be. He's stronger inside; stronger than me._

_And I…I need him to be there. Need him to have those plans in place in case I ever…_

_Yeah, I know, in my head, that it wasn't my fault. My heart is a different matter, but it'll catch up. Someday… And I know that if you were here, you'd probably be doing your best to bash that into my thick head._

_But you're not. And he…is. He has tried to knock some sense into me, and I think it's starting to work. I just…_

_I wish he **had** known how to take me down. We all got angry with him when it came out about Batman's protocols, thinking he had files on us, and…he didn't. But if he had, maybe…maybe I wouldn't have hurt him. Hurt any of them._

_I could 'maybe' myself into oblivion, though. _

_I trust him with my life. And he trusted us, maybe too much. That's why he didn't have those plans. I know he blames himself for not having them. And…and he still trusts us, **and** he has those plans now. But he doesn't trust himself to **have** those plans. _

_He thinks it would have been a betrayal of our friendship – our trust – for him to have those files on us. I think it would have been more of a betrayal if he didn't. A betrayal of himself. It's who he **is**, not just what he does. He keeps people safe; he protects the people he cares about, sometimes at the expense of his relationships with them._

_It's a lot to put on him, I know. Probably unfair to expect him to look out for everyone, but…I think he needs to. He doesn't want to have to, but he needs to…be there for everyone. And he needs for it to be okay with us._

_With me._

_And it is, it always was; I just… I was being stupid, I know, but I didn't want any of us to have to… Well, to grow up, I guess. To realize that the superhero game wasn't just a game, and that it was rarely ever fun. To stop being Young Justice and be the Teen Titans._

_But I'm not Peter Pan – anymore, anyway – and we all have to grow up eventually. I'm actually getting older now. There was this thing, with this guy, and I'm not going to be sixteen forever. But I don't think I would have ever grown up if it wasn't for you. _

_I just wish my maturity hadn't come at the price of your life. It felt like…I lost you, and I lost everything. Everything good about my life, at any rate. I tried to go on and act like…I don't know, act like I used to. Like I still had it all, had you, and everything was fine._

_I wasn't fine._

_Tim was the only one who saw what was going on and called me on my shit. It took Tim pushing my buttons until I broke down, crying like a little kid before I could start mourning you. And it took him kicking my ass over the Luthor thing to get me to quit acting like it had all been my fault. Even if, both times, it felt like my whole world had ended._

_He's always been there for me. That's why I trust him. But he thinks he doesn't deserve it._

_I don't trust him in spite of him having those files – I trust him **because** he has them. Because he won't use them unless absolutely necessary. Because he won't keep copies of them anywhere but his own head, so no one else can use them against us._

_People keep saying he's just like Batman. But he's better. He's only hard and gritty in the field, though he's tough all the time. Compassionate and friendly, too. He's lighter than Batman, despite the darkness he dwells in. Kinder, despite the bad things that have happened to him. That keep happening. When he's quiet, most of the time he's thinking instead of brooding, and he doesn't just **pretend** to listen when someone talks to him about their problems. He cares about…everyone…and does his best to show it, even if occasionally his best falls short._

_He's…everything. And…I think I love him. I…I know I do._

_I know I made you a promise. That I'd move on. That I wouldn't…mourn forever. I…I'm sorry it took me so long to follow up on it. Losing you…it hurt for so long._

_Still does._

_After you died…it was easier to be…blasé…about everything. To act like that stupid punk kid you fell in love with, like nothing could faze me, nothing could touch me. Like I was never going to grow up, on top of not getting any older. I hid my hurt by pretending not to care about anything too much. Pretending not to care about **anyone**._

_Until one day I realized that I cared too much to pretend anymore. Cared about him. About…Tim._

_I miss you, kealoha. And I'll always love you. But now I love him, too._

Kon stood up and dusted bits of grass off the knees of his jeans. Looking down at the simple gray stone marker – Beloved Friend and Family – he smiled sadly. Placing a hand over the word _Beloved_, he said, "Thanks for listening, Tana." As the sun rose over the distant Hawaiian shore, a warm wind blew through the small cemetery, and wrapped around Kon's body. A single tear slipped down his cheek, smile changing from mostly sad to slightly happy, as Kon murmured, "I'm glad I can still talk to you."

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THE END


	2. I Place My Trust In You

**I Place My Trust In You**

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Rating: PG  
Summary: Tim talks to someone about Kon.

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_He thinks I don't trust him. But I do._

_How can I not? He always tries to do the right thing._

_What he thinks is the right thing, the right thing for everyone else, even when it's the completely wrong thing for him._

_I know he feels responsible for…what happened. Even though he isn't. That's Clark's influence right there; accepting responsibility for his actions, even if he was under someone else's control. Placing the blame upon himself, even when it wasn't his fault. He thinks he should have been able to stop himself, never mind that it would have been impossible._

_And he won't accept our forgiveness. He won't accept **my** forgiveness. And maybe you'd say that I forgave him too easily – you might even be right – but, what he did to me…to all of us…is nothing compared to the beating he's giving himself._

_My arm's already healed, but Kon's broken heart is going to take longer to mend._

_I…can understand that. I think about all the times I hurt the people I care about, intentionally or not, with my lies. My mother, my father, Dana…you. And now I'll never get the chance to say the things to them that I should have. _

_You'd say it's never too late. And maybe…maybe you're right. Maybe I can still make things right. It's just…it was so easy to keep…wallowing…in my grief. So easy to just not feel anything but the pain._

_And then Kon… And it was a completely different kind of pain, and one I didn't know how to deal with, because you can't mourn for someone who's still alive, right? I just ended up mourning for our friendship, until I realized that it would only die if I let it._

_I remember when you said that to me, that first night – that only night – I ever saw you as Robin. You didn't let me go, and I couldn't do any less for you._

_He didn't allow me to let **myself** go, and I couldn't do any less for him._

_He's always been there for me. Even when he was so angry with me over those protocols, even when he acted like he didn't trust me…I could tell that he did. That if I needed him, anytime, anywhere, he'd be there. And that's why I trust him. But he thinks he doesn't deserve it._

_I know he does. Just like you deserved to live, and my dad deserved to not get killed because of me, and…and…_

_We all deserve things we never got. But Kon's still here, and so am I, and maybe I can show him…_

_I know you didn't really like him. But you didn't know him. It wasn't that he was mad that you were Robin – he was mad that I wasn't. Because I was his best friend, and if I wasn't Robin, then I wasn't one of the Teen Titans. If I wasn't one of the Teen Titans, then he wouldn't be able to see me on the weekends. And you know how Batman feels about metas in Gotham; if it wasn't for the weekends, we'd pretty much never see each other._

_It wasn't you he was angry at; he was just taking out his anger on the only person in a Robin suit he could find. Sounds familiar, huh? Kon is…a lot like you. And without you, I need him more than ever. Not that I didn't before, I just… It's like that song you loved so much; I couldn't appreciate the…the l-love you gave me until I'd lost it. I didn't really know what I'd had in you until I had to say…goodbye._

_And that makes me want to hold on tight to what – to who – I have left even more. I don't…I don't want to have to say goodbye to anyone else._

_And it isn't even really that you're gone and he's still here. It's just… He was always there for me. Ever since the beginning, back before we were Young Justice, before I met you, or Cass. We were friends. And he saw me, the real me._

_He was always more than Superboy to me, even before he got the name Kon-El. And even when the only name he knew me by was Robin, he still saw **me**, Tim Drake. Even when I wasn't sure that Tim Drake wasn't as much of a mask as Bruce Wayne._

_I know I didn't let you see much more than Robin in the beginning, and I'm sorry for that, and the problems it caused. But back then, even I wasn't sure there was more to me than the mask. You…you always were. You and Kon._

_Funny, isn't it? That the living embodiment of Pinocchio made **me** feel like a real boy. That our very own literal Peter Pan made me feel like I hadn't missed out on all of my childhood. _

_You made me feel like that, sometimes. But you were so much stronger than me. I envied that about you. You didn't need me like he does. Kon…Kon needs that from me, too. Just as much as I need that from him._

_It's…so difficult to move on. I know I have to – I promised you I wouldn't turn into Bruce, didn't I? And I don't think he's ever finished mourning. For…anyone._

_Including you._

_I know you think he…well, I don't know exactly what you thought. What you were thinking when… But you were Robin, and though he's terrible at showing it, at saying it…he cares about all of us._

_I cared about you more than he did, though. I miss you more than he does, too. I…I think I always will. But I made you a promise, and a promise made is a promise kept._

_To me._

Tim stared through tear-filled eyes at the marble angel in front of him, smiling half-heartedly. "Thanks for listening, Steph," he murmured, blinking the tears from his eyes. Stars shone down on the dark Gotham night, the full moon illuminating the old oak trees and rolling hills of the ancient cemetery. A warm wind stole inside his uniform, winding around him and warming him from the inside out. Tim let out a shuddering breath as his smile grew more real. "I'm glad I can still talk to you."

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THE END


	3. When Deeds Speak, Words Are Nothing

**When Deeds Speak, Words Are Nothing**

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Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Kon tries to talk Tim out of his funk. Then he tries something that works.

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Tim needed to talk. Everyone – even Batman – agreed on that.

Tim, however, had sequestered himself in his room, and seemed bound and determined not to come out unless he was needed to dismantle some doomsday device. And when he wasn't in there, he wasn't really into talking.

And no one was **doing** anything about it. Not even Bart, who had swallowed the psychology section of the San Francisco Library whole and believed in his heart of hearts that all problems could be solved with open communication. What good was all this talk if none of it involved Tim?

It was that train of thought that brought Kon to Tim's door. Well, Robin's door, technically, since they were in Titans Tower, but Tim slept there, too. Even if he was becoming Robin more and more, ever since…

Well, ever since things in Gotham descended even deeper into Hell. For Tim, at least.

It was a risk to go talk to him. A really big, monumental, 'if this didn't work, Tim might just go back to hiding in the shadows and only Robin would be left' risk. But Kon couldn't **not** try to help Tim. Tim was his friend. His best friend. His…everything.

So before he could rethink himself into oblivion, Kon knocked tentatively on Tim's door. He waited for a count of thirty without hearing any answer from within other than a small rustling sound, sort of like the soft susurration of cloth. He hadn't been given permission to enter, but Tim hadn't told him to go **away**, either, and…

Kon had always had a habit of barging in where angels and metas feared to tread. Whether that was a good or bad habit remained to be seen.

The first thing Kon saw once he closed the door behind him and looked at the darkened room was Tim. Sitting in the middle of the bed, he looked nothing so much like the island no man was supposed to be. A small, Robin-dressed island, curled half in a fetal position, head hidden behind his arms, next to his heart.

Sometimes Kon wasn't sure how to feel about his super-vision. It let him see things ordinary people wouldn't, which was a mixed blessing. He could tell, even with Tim folded in on himself like he was, that Tim had been crying, and wasn't sure how to feel about that. It meant Tim was grieving, which was a good thing, but it also meant Tim was **grieving**, which meant he wasn't just sad, he was also really fucking upset, and not coping.

Kon didn't know how to help Tim. But he had to try.

Tim finally lifted his head, and just looked at Kon – or, more correctly, a little to left of him, as if he couldn't bear to let anyone see into his soul via his eyes – as if to say, "What are you doing here?" And he was Robin, so he was totally saying that, just with his body language. Tim used to make actual noises, something vaguely inquisitive without being especially interested.

Tim's father and his ex-girlfriend and his civilian friends and… They all used to be alive, too.

Kon settled carefully onto the bed beside Tim; hopefully, he was close enough to offer comfort, but far enough away to stay out of Tim's Bat-sized bubble of personal space. "The others are worried about you," Kon said in explanation to Tim's rigid back.

Tim shifted slightly, but still as tense as ever. He turned towards Kon, but was still looking away. "And you aren't." It was Tim asking, so it was totally a question, in spite of his voicing it as a statement.

"Not for the same reasons they are, dude," Kon replied, inching cautiously closer. Tim didn't move away, which caused him to give an internal cheer. Maybe, just maybe…

Tim's shoulders unhunched a bit, and his head tilted towards him, which Kon knew was Robin-speak for, "Go on, I'm curious; not that I'd ever say so."

"I…I'm worried about you, too," Kon said; he wanted Tim to know that first and foremost. The others weren't **there**, after all. "But the others…" He couldn't really think of a way to put it that wasn't blunt to the extreme, a shock of salty water over a raw, gaping wound. "Well, half of them are worried that you're going to kill yourself, and the other half are worried that you're never going to come out of your room," Kon finally decided to say.

The truth didn't look like it was doing anything but making Tim retreat even more into himself, curl up into an even more miserable ball of Batness. It certainly wasn't setting him free from his grief.

Speaking without thinking first had seemed to work better, so Kon just opened his mouth, silently praying to whichever deities looked out for half-Kryptonian clones that whatever he said would be the right thing. "I know you'd never kill yourself." If Tim had lost the Teen Titans, in addition to everybody else… Well, Batman was **Batman**, and Nightwing currently had his own problems to deal with. And Oracle, even if he/she/it possessed emotions, well, that didn't necessarily mean that he/she/it spent much time with Tim. "And as for hiding in your Timcave for the rest of forever… Well, I won't let you, man." Kon tried to sound resolute and determined, strong like Superman. He had a feeling that he'd fallen short and ended up sounding nothing more than self-righteous and stubborn.

He could work with stubborn.

"You won't?" Tim asked, and the muddled mix of emotions in his voice worried Kon. Tim wasn't making a joke, like he might've if the situation was conducive to humor. He wasn't speaking with the same lackluster interest that had suffused his every other word that weekend. He wasn't angry, like he had been the other half of the time. He was…asking, almost begging for what Kon said to be true.

And that made Kon hurt inside, feel like there were millions of tiny Kryptonite shards scattered inside his body. Tim should **know** that Kon would be there for him, no matter what. And if he didn't…well, Kon would just have to fix that.

Decision made, Kon shifted to sit behind Tim, pulling the older boy into the circle of his arms. It wasn't really a hug; more of a half-embrace. Tim was stiff, and obviously stressed, and it felt like he might jump out of his arms at any moment, but Kon didn't want to have to use his TTK to keep Tim there; Tim needed to stay because he wanted to, not because Kon made him.

Long, excruciatingly slow minutes ticked by, and finally Tim started to relax. Or, rather, not relax, he just…un-stiffened. There shouldn't have been a difference between the two, but this was Robin, so there totally was.

"What can I do?" Kon whispered against Tim's ear, his breath ruffling the gel-spiked hair ever-so-slightly. "Tell me, and I'll do it, Tim."

He would, too. He'd give anything – his ability to age, his powers – if Tim would be okay.

Tim shifted slightly – towards Kon, not away, which made the ball of tension inside of his gut loosen to some extent – and murmured, "I…I don't know. I just…I feel–" He cut himself off and turned even further away from Kon. He was still there, being semi-hugged by him, but Kon had never felt farther away and more unable to reach Tim, not even when he was in Smallville.

All his superpowers came to naught when confronted by a friend whom he couldn't help.

"Tell me," Kon said coaxingly, and had a feeling it came out sounding more like a demand or an order than the plea it actually was. Especially when moments ticked by, and Tim remained stiffly silent.

Then Kon caught a whiff of salt scent on the air, and he could suddenly see the tears welling up once more in Tim's eyes.

"It…hurts," Tim sobbed softly, almost so softly that Kon wouldn't have been able to hear him if he wasn't Superboy. "Everything hurts. I can't even **think** without the memories hurting, and… I don't…I don't want to feel like that. I don't want to **feel** at all."

Kon was at a complete and utter loss. He didn't know what to do to make things better for Tim; nothing could make things **right** again. Time healed all wounds, but the healing hurt more than the initial injury. Almost without volition, Kon's arms reached out and enveloped Tim in a tight, hard hug. Tim's personal space bubble was sacrosanct. Considering that he always seemed willing to let Kon in, however, perhaps he wasn't the only one who thought their friendship was sacred.

There wasn't any place in his life that Tim didn't fit. Didn't **belong**. And so it didn't come as much of a surprise when Kon suddenly knew with crystal clarity exactly what he could do to make Tim feel better.

The fact that he'd enjoy it, too, was just icing on the proverbial cake.

Kon carefully twisted Tim around in his lap to face him, and then coaxed him closer. Tim tilted his face up, tear-laden eyes begging for release from his internal torment, before they closed, trying to block out the pain. Kon's own eyelids drifted shut, and he leaned into Tim, simply relishing the closeness for a long moment. Their lips met in a kiss that was almost soul-shattering, causing Kon to lose the thread of reality for a seemingly never-ending moment. A slow, sinking kiss that melted Tim's muscles underneath his hands, and made Kon wish for the moment to never end. The power behind the joining of their lips weakened him so much that if Tim had even trembled towards pushing him away, Kon could have felt it.

Tim did tremble, pulling Kon closer, even as his lips parted on a ragged breath. "Please don't stop," he whimpered near-soundlessly, tear-filled gaze focused on him once more.

Kon looked down at his friend-turned-lover, taking in Tim's flushed cheeks, wide, lust-glazed eyes, full, pouty lips…and the expression of needy desperation on his face. Tim obviously hadn't meant to say anything. But he had, and now Kon had to decide how to respond.

Saying nothing, Kon just pulled Tim closer, until there was barely a breath between them. He pressed a gentle kiss to Tim's lips, softer than the innocent, distressed fumblings of before, all the while keeping his gaze locked with Tim's, until the other boy's lashes fluttered closed over dilated blue eyes.

Maybe Tim didn't need to talk. Or maybe he did…but that didn't mean they needed to use words.

Words…could get in the way. Actions…might not be the right ones.

But love always guided you right.

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THE END


End file.
